Taming The Bride (Brides of Mayfair 2) (10 page)

And as Cage thought of the endless possibilities in that regard, he couldn’t help but smile.

* * *

Prudence walked down the busy street and clutched her cloak closer around her. Unlike her purple silk, this heavy grey wool was very good at keeping out the cold. It would do just fine as she walked to the library.

It had been a week since she had seen Lord Weston.

A whole week.

In all of her life, she had never known days could pass so slowly as they had since the carriage ride with Alfred.

Before she could stop it, his face materialised in her mind’s eye. She had learned that it was senseless to try to stop Lord Weston from invading her thoughts. He had been doing so quite successfully now every day this week.

And every night, too.

Somehow when she closed her eyes in the dark, she was there again with him in the carriage—his strong arms around her, his skilful lips pleasuring hers.

Prudence side-stepped the lamppost she’d been about to walk into, and continued down the congested street. Yesterday, she had bumped into a doorframe, dropped a heavy stack of books on her foot, and spilled a pot of ink on her skirt, along with all sorts of other clumsy things.

Everyone at the school was concerned for her health. They were perplexed. This was not the thoroughly unflappable Miss Atwater they knew. Only one person knew the truth of the matter. Dolly had guessed it almost immediately. And there was no use lying to her about it. Dolly could read her mind.

So Prudence had told her about Lord Weston…Alfred.

About his kisses.

About him deeming her debt paid in full.

Dolly had listened with utmost understanding. The kindly housekeeper had merely patted Prudence’s hand, and said she could talk to her more about it any time she liked.

Now, as she ambled down Ridgely Street, she found herself wondering what Alfred was doing, this very moment. Was he at one of his clubs, lunching with friends? Was he at Mr. Jackson’s boxing salon, taking a bit of exercise? Was he perhaps, thinking of her, too?

She wondered if she would ever see him again. She would certainly have future dealings with Lady Weston, to discuss the funding of the school. But would Alfred come to call as well? If he did, what would she say to him?

Prudence knew this was all terribly foolish. She had been swept off her feet by a man who was skilled at seduction. That was all. For heaven’s sake, she didn’t even
like
the man.

She and Lord Weston were completely incompatible. They had opposing views on just about everything.

She found him infuriating.

He found her exactly the same.

And yet, in the carriage…they had been very compatible indeed.

But the fact remained that he was simply not the man for her. And even if he was the man for her, she wouldn’t want him as a suitor.

Or a husband.

Marriage had no place in her future. The Atwater School was her life. And that was just the way she wanted it.

A husband wouldn’t let her keep operating the school, let alone go searching for streetwalkers dressed as one of them! He would want her to stay at home, play the pianoforte, invite ladies over for tea, and have babies. He would not want her to teach classes in ancient history, read Plato’s ‘Republic’ in Greek, or be more intelligent than he, in any way, shape, or form.

Once, at one of Lady Abercrombie’s assemblies, Prudence had unintentionally embarrassed a wealthy colonel by knowing more about Alexander the Great’s military strategies than he did.

Needless to say, he did not ask her to dance—nor did he become her patron. After that, she’d learned to bite her tongue. And she could not, in good conscience, go through life forever biting her tongue. Which is what she would have to do if she married.

But what about babies
, Dolly would ask?
Didn’t she want to have babies of her own?

It was a sacrifice she would have to make, she’d replied to Dolly. And it was worth it, to be able to realize her and Father’s dreams of running their school, and making a difference in the world.

But there was another reason Prudence had reconciled herself against ever having children. A reason even Dolly didn’t know….

From a purely scholarly interest, Alfred’s sensual skill intrigued her. She was curious about what other responses he could illicit from her. He’d heated her blood to scorching with the expert touch of his hands and mouth, and yet, she knew there was more. The power of her own desire had surprised her, to say the least.

She would consult some books on physiognomy, in an effort to understand the biological reasons for such distracting feelings.

To clear her head, Prudence concentrated on her destination. The library stood only a few blocks away. But as she neared the familiar building, she saw a tall figure waiting by the steps, looking directly at her.

It was him—the man who watched her in Drury Lane only last week.

So, she had not been imagining things….

Her heart pounded in her chest as she frantically searched for somewhere to duck out of sight. Quickly, she stepped into the alley. She picked up her skirt and ran as fast as she could, which, considering she also carried an armload of books, didn’t seem fast enough at all. Looking over her shoulder, Prudence saw the man turn the corner, then stop when he saw her.

He followed in pursuit.

Fear shot through her anew, and a bolt of energy quickened her step. The skirt of her frock flapped around her knees as she hiked it higher, lengthening her strides as much as she could. The heavy books fell from her arm, and she used both hands to hold her skirt.

But what did all that matter, when he was getting closer!

She came to a turn in the alleyway and dashed left, immediately regretting her decision.

It was a dead end.

Prudence whirled around, her back against the cold stone wall. There was nowhere to hide. She was trapped. Scanning the ground for a weapon, she swooped down to grab a loose stone, and held it in front of her. If only she had her dagger.

The man ran past the alleyway, but she soon heard his steps come to a jolting halt. He re-appeared at the corner and came toward her.

Prudence heard her jagged breathing, half from running, half from fear. She raised the stone so he could see it.

“Don’t come any closer!” she said, struggling to keep her voice even. “I warn you.”

To her surprise, he didn’t laugh at her little threat. He just kept the same serious expression as he continued toward her.

She raised the stone higher. “I mean it, sir! I may not kill you with this, but make no mistake, I will injure you. Of that you may be certain.”

He regarded her with flinty grey eyes, stepping closer. “Ye better put that down, Miss. ’Afore ye gets hurt.”

“I’ll smash your skull with this,” Prudence said. “I swear I will!”

“Be nice, now, Miss Atwater. Ye don’t want to make ’ol Grimesy mad.”

Her blood went cold. “How do you know my name?”

The man gave a slimy grin, saying, “Miss Prudence Atwater, proprietress of the Atwater Finishing School for Young Ladies. Oh…I knows all about ye. About ’ow ye takes in the girls who walk the streets at night, and tries to turn ’em into ladies. A very noble endeavour.”

“What do you want?” Prudence demanded.

“I’m ’ere to deliver a message from someone…someone who doesn’t like what you’re doing at all. You’re interferin’ with ’is business, ye see?” He jabbed his finger at her. “Stop takin’ those girls off the streets. For if ye don’t, it could be very bad for yer ’ealth.
Very
bad indeed.”

He stepped back, adjusting his cap, and turned back down the alleyway. As he reached the corner, he turned back to her. “Remember what I said, or next time, I won’t be so nice.”

With that, the odious man disappeared around the corner.

Prudence stood frozen, still helplessly holding the stone in case he should change his mind and return. She remained there for some moments, as if rooted to the spot. The only sound in the deserted alley was her labored breathing.

She put down the stone, and on shaking legs, made her way down the alley. She took a deep breath and glanced around the corner. He was nowhere in sight. Then, forgetting the books she’d dropped along the way, Prudence ran for home.

Chapter 10

Miss Atwater cleared her throat and regarded the class. “That concludes our study of ‘Measure for Measure’. Next we shall travel to Imperial Rome as we study another of Mr. Shakespeare’s plays, the tragedy of ‘Julius Caesar’.”

The girls looked at each other excitedly.

“Fanny, Jane, and Matilda, as you are new readers,” she explained, “you shall be studying from our new books of poetry, which were, as you know, purchased with funds generously donated by our patroness, Lady Weston. But as with ‘Measure for Measure’, you will be invited to listen and participate in our discussion of ‘Julius Caesar.’ Class is now dismissed.”

Great-Aunt Withypoll looked at Alfred with a beaming face. “
W
o
nderful!
” She clapped her hands enthusiastically. “Oh, my dear boy, was it not exciting? Were you not impressed with Miss Atwater’s knowledge and skill? And the girls—the precious, precious girls! To think that I am helping them in their quest for knowledge…it warms my heart so.”

Alfred smiled down at Great-Aunt Withypoll and put his hand over hers, squeezing gently. “I am glad to see you enjoying yourself, Auntie.”

Her eyes twinkled. “And what of you? Did you not enjoy watching Miss Atwater teach with such aplomb? You might as well admit it, m’boy—because I know that you did.”

“How do you know?” he asked, quirking a brow.

“Well…though the play was a comedy, you smiled a bit too much throughout parts which were not at all amusing,” she explained. “And earlier, during the botany lesson, you barely moved, you were so transfixed. Indeed, your eyes were quite glassy from staring so long at Miss Atwater. My word, for a moment, I feared you had died sitting up.”

“Hmpf,” he replied. “You are imagining things, Auntie. I was merely attempting to be an attentive student. Nothing more, I assure you.”

“After all your shenanigans at Eton, I must say I find that sentiment surprising. But you would do well to learn from Miss Atwater, Alfred. She could teach you a thing or two.”

“About what?”

“Well,” Lady Weston whispered, “perhaps you should investigate. I’m sure that Miss Atwater has many more talents that you would find most impressive.”

He stifled a chuckle. Curiously, he was sure of that too.

After her passionate response to him that night in the carriage, he had speculated that Prudence possessed many hidden talents, of which even she was unaware. Oh, how he would like to teach her the finer points of using them….

He and Great-Aunt Withypoll had come to visit the Atwater School at the elderly lady’s insistence. The fact that the classes had been taught by a beautiful flame-haired enchantress, the very same vixen who had so bewitched him almost a fortnight ago, had nothing at all to do with his interest in attending. While undeniably lovely to look at, the fact of the matter was that Miss Prudence Atwater was a gifted teacher.

He felt a grudging admiration for her. And though he didn’t want to admit it, he was, all in all, quite impressed.

Oh, he still found her irritating—like a bee buzzing about one’s ear. But she was an intelligent little bee. And obviously committed to her cause.

Meeting her students in the flesh, he’d found it difficult to dismiss them and their school as easily as he had been doing. He’d been uncomfortable at first, but upon introduction, the girls seemed as well-mannered and proper as any others he had met in London society. And indeed, thanks to Prudence Atwater, they were.

What were their stories? How long had they walked the streets before Miss Atwater had come upon them? Had he once passed by these very same faces in the dark streets of the Theater District, on his way to enjoy a night of gambling?

The thought left him with an odd feeling that he did not at all like.

Prudence walked across the classroom toward him and his great-aunt, and he rose to greet her.

As she neared them, a bright smile lit her face with a beauty that was almost painful to regard. The sombre dress of smoky-grey only served to sharpen the blue of her eyes and accentuate the rosiness of her full lips. All of a sudden, Alfred remembered exactly what those lips had tasted like, yielding bewitchingly beneath his….

“Did you and Lord Weston enjoy yourselves, my lady?” Prudence asked.

“I hope you did not find the lesson too long.”

“No, no, my dear,” Lady Weston said, as Alfred helped her get to her feet. “If anything, it was not long enough! Oh, I was entranced, was I not, Alfred? And I daresay Alfred was as well. I remarked on it not a moment ago. I mentioned that I had noticed him
staring—
”

“At your detailed notes on the board,” Alfred interjected, pointing. “Fascinating stuff.”

Prudence turned to look at the scant few jottings she had put on the board during the lesson.